The Road of Fate
by Crystal shatters
Summary: Satine faces her past, present and future. How fate can change. But what will change? And will it save the future? The story of a life and love.
1. An Eternal Flame

Disclaimer: I don't own the Moulin Rouge, or Nicole Kidman, Ewan McGregor, or even any little parcel of the set. So don't sue. I have nothing!  
  
A/N: I'm finally posting my second story. I'm a little surprised myself! It's been a while. Hello world of fanfiction! R+R. You know the reviews are welcomed here (. I'd like to thank some certain ficcers who know who they are -- Previous reviewers and supporters of my fics. You're all great! Oh! And I know it's confusing but Satina is not the same as Satine. Read on!  
  
The Road of Fate Chapter 1 - An Eternal Flame By: Kattydid  
  
  
  
"Here lay the lovely and beautiful Satina Leunette. Her talent for the arts was known throughout the French community, for what brought her to London today..."  
  
A young girl sat alone, head bowed and eyes bloodshot from crying. She loved her mother dearly. Her death hit young Satine like a rock, pelting her and penetrating her sadness into nothing but silent cries and questions to the heavens.  
  
It happened so quickly, so unexpectedly...  
  
As did for her father, whose body was too beaten to be shown.  
  
Somewhere inside this small child, a fire was burning deep in her heart. An eternal flame that could never be put out. A child whose mind was trying to understand how anyone could be so cruel to take something that important away.  
  
Knowing her beliefs, the young girl often questioned the one supreme being who controlled it all. Of all the things someone of her age could imagine, this was the worst. She just wanted her family back.  
  
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"Satine," Her mother called. "Is it alright if Papa and I leave you with Auntie Bella for a bit? We're to look at a new home with a big room for you!"  
  
"Ofcourse Mama! I would love a big room!" young Satine squealed, bright- eyed and joyful.  
  
"Darling, we'll be home as soon as we can." Her father kissed her sweetly on the forehead.  
  
And with that, they left. Satine sat quietly for the next few hours in her small bedroom with candlelight. She entertained herself most of the time with her only doll, Rosie. She named it for the rosy cheeks she had, and for the resemblance of her mother, who was, to Satine, a beautiful rose.  
  
The night hours were cold and bitter. And the noisy thunder crashes rumbled, with the rain turning to ice as it crackled on the thin roof of their small home. Satine was getting sleepy, but wanted to wait for her parents to come back to tuck her in.  
  
"Auntie Bella," Satine quietly asked her Aunt, who was reading by the fire. "When are Mama and Papa coming home?"  
  
"Oh, dear. I didn't realize how late it was. They should've been home by now."  
  
Children take terms into their own hands. They say what's on their minds. "Are they ever coming back?"  
  
Her Aunt Bella's eyes shot mysteriously at Satine, as if it was a bad omen to ask such a simple question. "Of course they are, Darling. Just wait a bit longer. Why don't you go to sleep in front of the fire here?"  
  
"Alright, Aunt Bella. Please wake me when they come."  
  
"I will, Satine. Good night."  
  
But within an hour, there was a knock at the door. It was Jim from down the street. Bella arose to get the door, carefully as not to disturb the sleeping Satine.  
  
"Jim, what a pleasant su-- Jim?" His facial expression was serious, this couldn't be so.  
  
"It's Satina and Robert. They've been killed!"  
  
"What? Jim, are you sure?"  
  
"Positive. That God-awful goon was at it again. He thinks that just because he owns half of the community, he can get away with what he wants to. But I seen it! I was there!"  
  
Bella's voice was low and quiet. "No."  
  
"That's what I say! Honestly they did nothing wrong! Just passing through. That Roy was angry again. Shooting off all over the place. He picked a fight with them, and they did nothing to make him mad. He got angry anyway. Killed Robert first. Punching him to the ground while Satina screamed. Robert tried to get up and save Satina, but the shots came next. Roy shot him down and Satina attempted fighting with him. But his men grabbed her, and Roy killed her."  
  
"That isn't true!"  
  
"Honestly Bella! I ain't lyin' to ya'!"  
  
"Why you're just a cheap liar trying to hurt a family with your words! Well, I ain't falling for it!"  
  
"Bella, you know I'm not lying," he said with a look of seriousness that this Jim never contained. "Look at me. I'm telling you the truth." And with his voice so mellow and sweet, Bella saw something she'd never seen in a man. She seen stars in his eyes, as the knife drove further into her heart.  
  
Tears began streaming down Bella's face. Her voice still small and throaty. "Would you like some tea, Jim?"  
  
"Bella, I'm sorry, but I must be going... He's killed a few others tonight. I'll see you soon. I promise."  
  
"Thank you, Jim."  
  
Satine quietly approached behind the door. "Auntie, what was that about?"  
  
With a small jump, Bella tried to get herself together for the young one. "Goodness, I thought you were asleep, child."  
  
"Auntie, why are you crying?"  
  
Bella looked into the eyes of the innocent Satine and hesitated with her words. That face would have to grow up quickly, grow without a mother or a father. She didn't want to end her childhood so fast. How could she ever?  
  
"Auntie?"  
  
"It's...about Mama and Papa."  
  
"Are they coming home soon?"  
  
"I'm afraid not..."  
  
But then she knew, and didn't want to hear anymore. She ran to the fireplace, dropping to the floor and held Rosie close. Death was so mysterious to a girl at the tender age of 6. She didn't know much about it. All known to her was that when people die, they go to sleep and never wake up, or they go to a place called 'heaven', but which one was it? Not that it mattered. She knew it was over. She wasn't seeing her mother or father ever again. And "Forever" was a strong word for a child.  
  
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"Harold, what are we to do? We can't have Satine live here. This isn't even a home. We've not enough money to provide her. How will she even love us?"  
  
"Oh, Marie. You needn't say those things. I'll make it feel like home for her. I've been working longer in the bakery. I've already made her a bed to sleep in."  
  
"But how is she going to act? Is she going to be so upset that she won't talk to us or want any part of us?"  
  
"We'll worry about that when the time comes."  
  
Marie quietly finished the coat she was making for Satine which what little fabric she had for it. She felt so bad for the little child. She lost her parents. Satina was good friends with Marie, who was Satine's Godmother.  
  
They had only seen the child once, but even then, it was easy to see that the baby was Satina's child. Satine was the picture of beauty and love.  
  
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The whistle of the halting train awakened Satine. She was now in Paris. Bella sent her to Montemartre to be with her Godparents. It was said to be a town of writers' and painters. It was where Satina grew up and found love.  
  
She was nearly hustled off of the train by busy people not watching their step. Satine had brought a tiny cloth bag with what few belongings she did own, and her doll, Rosie.  
  
Paris was certainly big. Satine looked around to find many beautiful and rich-looking buildings. But she didn't know what to do. Who were Harold and Marie? Of course she had heard of them, but not much. She didn't know what to do other than stand in that spot, waiting for something or someone mysterious to take her away to a new home.  
  
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"Look, Harold! It's Satine!"  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"Yes, I'm sure! She looks just like her mother." Marie slowly approached her, not wanting to scare her, but Satine was looking elsewhere. "Satine?"  
  
Satine shook herself out of her state of wonderment. "Oh, hello! You must be Aunt Marie!" She smiled happily, even if she was far from it.  
  
Marie was surprised at Satine's sweetness. She was expecting an upset little girl. "Why yes, but you don't have to call me Aunt. You may call me whatever you please."  
  
"Why not Marie?"  
  
"Sounds fine to me!" She pulled Harold over. "This man here, is Harold. You can also call him what you want."  
  
"Why hello little muffin." Harold held out his arms, grabbing her into a hug.  
  
They weren't what she expected, but she decided to like them. It wasn't every day that people were so welcoming to her. Since her parents were gone, her Aunt Bella was disheveled and quiet. Satine never knew what to do or say.  
  
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Her new home was tiny, smaller than before. But she'd have to accept it. Marie and Harold provided her with as much as they could, so she was grateful.  
  
She'd be starting school in a week, but didn't know much French. Dreading every next moment, she eventually fell asleep on the small cot, grasping Rosie tightly. But before long, the recurring nightmares came again; the ones of the night her parents being killed by an awful man. She shook, reliving it each time, knowing what was to happen, but couldn't control it. It was too real. Only this time, she wasn't the innocent girl falling asleep by the fireplace. She was a growing girl who lost her childhood with the deaths of her parents.  
  
The following nights were as restless as the ones before. Satine grew accustomed to looking out the small window near her cot and sung herself to sleep most of the time, looking at the stars.  
  
The stars were brilliant, not just balls of gas up in the depths of the galaxies beyond. To Satine they were so much more than that. Stars were angels, they were symbols, but symbols of what? Satine often questioned that herself, but she also often realized that no matter what they were, stars stood for something powerful. She felt that by gazing at them each night, she'd find her parents, her wonderful past, and maybe some hope for a future.  
  
That night, she dreamt...  
  
"Oh, you silly child. You cannot behold the future within the stars, just believe. Have hope, hold onto your dreams. You're still a child."  
  
Satine gasped in fear. Where was she? The whole room had lit up. And a strange old woman was standing before her. "Bu-But, what about my mother and father? I want to see them so much..."  
  
"You have your memories. You have to sleep, child, sleep is the key to dreams at night, and if you sleep, you will dream. If you dream, you will see them, as vivid as the past was at the time."  
  
"I don't want the memories. I want to see them!" Satine's fear was almost anger at the same time. Already, she was sick of battling the pain of loss.  
  
"In good time you'll see them. Just you wait."  
  
Tears streamed down her soft face with so much love for what she had. "Can I get to them earlier than expected? Please?"  
  
"Child, wait for your fate. You have yet to see the long road ahead of you."  
  
"Can't I change it? Can I make it shorter?"  
  
The glowing woman looked at her with such pity. She knew what Satine's future beheld. "Fate only changes when something intervenes. When something alters it. But that's very unlikely."  
  
Satine's eyes fluttered in amazement. "How?"  
  
"Don't worry about that. Just live your life. Dream a little dream now and then."  
  
And with that, the old woman formed into a small light that flew past Satine before she had a chance to ask the woman who she was, or why she even came. But through all the confusion and fright, Satine slept this dream through until morning.  
  
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"Satine. Satine? It's time to get up for school."  
  
With a small mumble and a rub of her eyes, Satine awoke slowly, instantly remembering last nights' dream.  
  
Marie patted Satine's small head. "Come along sleepyhead, time for your breakfast."  
  
Harold had already started on his breakfast before he went into the bakeshop to put in a long day. "Good morning Sugarplum! Did you sleep well?"  
  
"Yes, Harry, thank you very much."  
  
Satine took a seat across from Harold and sat quietly. She didn't want to express any feelings regarding last night, let alone unsatisfied thoughts. She really did appreciate Harold and Marie, and all that they did. But she just couldn't call them "Mummy" and "Daddy." Though she knew she probably could never bring herself to doing so, they were a couple of the most loving people she'd ever met. Just like her parents.  
  
But even Satine knew that nothing they could do or say could change how she felt. Nothing could change the past, the unfairness that went on, or the hatred the world contained. Harold and Marie were simply people who took her in despite the anguish burning in her heart.  
  
Of course that wasn't meant for children to understand. What they know is what they live off of. They feel that grownups can do anything. Grown-ups were the caretakers who took the pain away and made everything better. Though normally, this was only the role of the mother and the father. Satine knew that no matter how much she'd loved her parents, they were only people too. Just as Marie and Harold were. And no one in the world could take her pain away. No riches, or a big room, or the doll that her mother had given her, would change what happened. What's done was done, and reality was now.  
  
  
  
A/N: That's the end of Chapter one. 2 should come soon. Please review, I'd love to know what you all think! 


	2. The Book of a Life

Disclaimer: I don't own the Moulin Rouge, or any human being for that matter. Oh well.  
  
A/N: Again, this is hard to write. I don't know. I just can't make the typing flow like Christian can. Though I wish I could - That'd be fun! Thanks for the reviews!! I love the reviewing people. You make me feel as if I know what I'm doing! Thank you!!  
  
The Road of Fate  
  
Chapter 2-The Book of a Life  
  
By: Kattydid  
  
  
  
"Quiet down!" The teacher spat. She was an old woman with a voice bigger than a husky male. Noisy students giggled as they lowered their voices. "Now students, I'd like you to meet Satine. She is from England, and I think you should all treat her with respect."  
  
Satine's eyes looked about the small, dirty classroom that seemed much larger than it was. But her fearful thoughts were truly stolen by the strict woman's hands on her shoulders. "Satine, you may sit next to Hue in the back row. Hue, do you mind at all?"  
  
Hue, or so the teacher called him, was a short little boy who seemed a bit shy and nervous. The tug of the teachers' hands sent Satine off to the back, passing the still giggling children before her. 'I hope they're not laughing at me.' She thought as she finally made her way back to her desk.  
  
After about a moment of somewhat-silence, it was time for a break, even though they hadn't really started anything but writing their own names. Satine knew how to do that well. Most others had trouble.  
  
Satine looked innocently over to the nervous boy next to her. "Hey, Hue? Is that your name?"  
  
He was so shy. He looked lost in concentration with trying to write his name. First his eyes looked over to Satine from an angle, and then he turned his head looking somewhat confused and scared. "Y-Yes, that's me."  
  
"Hi. Um, I was thinking, maybe we could play a game like the other students are." Satine felt slightly embarrassed. What did she really have to discuss with a quiet boy named 'Hue'?  
  
Before Hue could answer this next question, a spunky little boy from the next seat over came to answer for him. "Because we're not 'the other students'. We're not like them."  
  
Satine hadn't heard such rubbish before. "What do you mean?"  
  
"What I mean is, if you're going to talk to the likes of us, then don't talk to them. They're not like us. We're going to grow up to be something, you know, be good at life. They won't."  
  
Satine looked at him curiously. "How do you know about everyone's future?"  
  
He smirked slightly. "I get around. I know who they are and I compare them to their parents and relatives. They're all going to be nobodies in this town like their parents. They're all drunken frauds, whose children want nothing but to take after them," he then paused a moment, noticing Satine was still confused on the issue, or otherwise, looked it. "At least that's what I get out of it all. My old man gets drunk every night. My mum drinks too, but I won't be like that. I'm going to grow up and make something of myself. I'm going to own a big store maybe. Or a restaurant."  
  
"Hmm," Satine was impressed. She hadn't really thought much about her future, she just always pictured herself being a famous actress. Her mother told her she would be. "Well, I guess I'm with you then. Well, not that I fit in with anyone else anyway," She looked around to the faces still giggling, some gawking at her as if she was from outer space rather than merry old England. Surprisingly, it was the first time Satine realized that no one was speaking French. Most of them spoke in English, and made small comments in French. Those were the ones they were giggling on about.  
  
"My name's Simon. So now that you're one of us, what's your goal?"  
  
"To be an actress." 'Wait,' she thought, 'why have I just told that to a boy I hardly know?'  
  
"Actress. Really? Are you any good at acting?"  
  
"I don't really know. I never tried it. Just pictured myself doing that." Well, that was out. She'd just said it. Something she kept so secretive to even herself.  
  
"Eh, I think you can do it."  
  
Satine was stunned. Had he just said that to her? She could do it? Only her mother said that. But then her thoughts were interrupted.  
  
"So, how were your parents unsuccessful?"  
  
Was it tears that were forming, or a sudden disliking for Simon? Why did she have to talk about her parents? And even if she did, surely it wouldn't be talking badly on them. She adored her parents to their very last days of being. Even after they were gone, and she'd admire everything about them, for the rest of her life.  
  
"Hey, you hear me?"  
  
Satine shook out of her thinking state. "Wha-I mean. My parents weren't unsuccessful."  
  
"Then why aren't you taking after them?"  
  
She didn't know. Did that mean she didn't love them sincerely? "I don't really know." And that was her answer. She didn't know, nor did she want to discuss it any further. To get him off the topic, she was still noticing the other students making comments in French. "Are they., saying bad things about me?"  
  
"Eh, yeah. But none less than they do for me or Hue here. When you've got a goal, you're with us. When you're different to them, you're with us."  
  
But Satine looked a bit scared of all the faces around her.  
  
"Hey, don't worry. Remember who you're going to be, and who they're going to be."  
  
Her off expression turned into a slight smile at this nice boy. He was right. At least, she'd hoped he was.  
  
"Look at Hue here, so quiet. I'm not too sure if he's got a goal. He claims he does-"  
  
"I do." Hue had interrupted Simon, and Simon was impressed.  
  
"But he won't tell me." And Hue continued concentrating on his paper.  
  
Satine looked at him. This Hue, he may be quiet, but he seems to be just like her. Wanting to hide away. But Satine knew that wasn't the way to be about it. She was a scared little girl, but she'd learned a little too fast on how to act in the world. You have to speak up, no matter how awkward the task. Satine was so quiet, just like him, but even she could prove herself wrong at times.  
  
"Students!"  
  
And now it was time to start doing what Satine came to do - learn.  
  
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That's how school went for as long as it would last. She learned the alphabet, numbers, and to read and write. It was always the same. Though sometimes she was teased for her "Bloody red" hair and her "Dead-white skin", but Simon always reassured her "They're just jealous. They've never seen amazing red hair like yours, or skin as milky as yours, Satine."  
  
She always loved how good Simon was at making her feel a little more comfortable about herself. Hue reassured her with his glances. When Simon made a nice comment about her, Hue would look at her. If children began teasing her, he'd squeeze his pencil really hard to the point of shaking it. Satine would take it as his way of showing that he liked her. He even spoke sometimes. Always stumbled. Most of the things he said were complementary as well, such as "I-I like your dr-dress."  
  
Satine felt almost honored that Hue would say such nice things, but most flattered that he said anything at all. She answered with "Thank yous" to him every time he'd say his little piece. It was almost saddening though to her, that he wouldn't hold a conversation. He was too nervous it seemed. Why wouldn't he talk?  
  
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Every night, after school, Satine would go straight to the bakery that she lived behind and helped Harold and Marie.  
  
"Satine, would you take this loaf over to Harold to cut?" Satine always did as she was told, and didn't mind it either.  
  
"Cupcake, would you take this to the counter for Mrs. Linde?"  
  
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After another school year passed, the summer came. Satine enjoyed taking walks to the park, and visiting Simon and Hue. But one day, Simon and Hue came to her, instead.  
  
"Satine, Hue's moving away!" Simon cried. Hue's head was low. He didn't make any eye contact.  
  
Satine looked at them both, almost horrified. "You-you're moving away?" He slowly nodded his head. "But you can't!" It was a bit childish, really. Satine was throwing her arms around a boy who hardly ever talked. How could he move away?  
  
Simon was looking to the ground too for a while before he spoke "Well, I have to get going back home now, common Hue, I'll walk you back. Bye, Satine."  
  
This was awful, Hue was one of the only friends Satine had, him and Simon. If Hue wasn't indirectly in a conversation, he was the topic of it. She'd miss him so much.  
  
That night, as the stars became noticeable, there was a knock at the old flimsy door.  
  
"Satine, would you get that? I suppose it's one of your friends anyway." Marie said, while sewing together a new summer dress for Satine.  
  
Expecting Simon, she opened it quickly "Simon, I don't want him to - Hue?"  
  
"Y-yes."  
  
Satine looked around for Simon. This wasn't like Hue. He wouldn't ever do anything so unexpectedly, nor alone. "Hi. How are you?"  
  
"Well." He looked up at her. She noticed his eyes. She loved his eyes. Why couldn't she see them before?  
  
"Is something wrong?" Satine saw Harold looking over to see the little boy. She closed the door and led Hue to an old bench near the end of the alley.  
  
"I'm moving."  
  
"Yes. I know, Hue. I'll miss you."  
  
"I-I'll miss you too. That's why I c-came."  
  
"Oh, Hue, don't be nervous around me. I'm Satine. You know me well." She peaked her head down a little to see those eyes of his again.  
  
He caught her eye and smiled, just a little bit. "I liked you."  
  
Satine laughed. He was acting so different all of the sudden. Something she never thought would happen. "Thank you! I liked you too, Hue."  
  
"I wanted to come. By myself, you know. I had to tell you in person, alone how I feel about you."  
  
"Well, I'm glad you did." Satine was still smiling at him.  
  
"I know it may've been too late to tell you-"  
  
"Oh, no, no. Not at all!" What else could she say? Hue, he had such a charming voice. And maybe he didn't always stutter either. She was suddenly absorbed in his every word.  
  
"I have to go now, Satine. I'll miss you." He paused as he got up, after looking back to the direction of his now old home. "Bye."  
  
"Bye!" She looked longingly at him. They were both eight now, she couldn't be in love, she just saw a whole new light of one of the greatest friends she's ever had. "Oh, and remember to stop by if you ever come back for a visit!" She'd be there, right? Living in Montemartre. Friendless, trying to be fearless. Maybe there'd be Simon. But who knows what their fate contains? Simon was so sure of himself, she envied him. But there was Hue, still standing there. A sad, beautiful smile on his face.  
  
"Yes. I will Satine."  
  
She would miss him so much. That's how he left her. She was amazed. She wanted to know that there was love like that out there for her someday. Hue said his goodbye with a passion and hope for a love supreme that she one day might find.  
  
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The summer went by in a daze. She helped Marie and Harold most of the time, occasionally making deliveries. Helping to bring in extra money. No matter how much they made, they remained in their tiny place. Harold said he was saving up for something big. And slowly, they brought in more and more money. Their lifestyle was simply always cut down to barely anything at all. And Satine was slowly known as "the poor one" for the rest of her school days. Little did they know that she had more money packed away than they'd thought.  
  
That never bothered her. Nothing bothered her anymore. No matter how absurd or off-the-clock Harold's ideas or goals seemed, Satine supported him, like a good girl. She assured herself that it was fate, and fate alone that would get her through any hardship or disaster. Fate would do it all. She couldn't wait to find what happened next in the book of her life.  
  
  
  
A/N: Hmm. I wonder what happens next. I'm still thinking this fic is just getting started- at least, that's what I'm hoping! Chapter 3 will be up ASAP!!! And please review. The reviews are sometimes a reason to write. 


	3. Say Goodbye to Innocence

Disclaimer: I know own anything. Except maybe Simon. You know, those people.  
  
A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews! Sorry it took so long to post this. I've been working on it for a long time not knowing how to end it. Lol. There's more to come. The plot will unravel more.  
  
The Road of Fate  
  
Chapter 3 - Say Goodbye to Innocence  
  
By: Kattydid  
  
  
  
"He really said that? With no stuttering?" Simon laughed.  
  
"Yes, all of it."  
  
"I believe it." He slowly shook his head. "I just can't believe he went to you without me. He never came to me. I always had to go to him to get him to come out. I think he had a crush on you."  
  
"That wouldn't have been bad. I liked him too." Satine smiled at the memories of Hue.  
  
"Are you kidding? How long has this been going on? The one time when I'm not there and my 2 best friends fall in love. I don't want to know what would have happened if Hue was still here!"  
  
Satine tapped him jokingly. "Hey, I didn't mean anything by it!"  
  
"I know. It still isn't registering though. You sure it was Hue?"  
  
"Oh stop it, It was Hue."  
  
How it would've been nice to stay in this moment. Satine still had her friend. They were still young, and they didn't have to go their separate ways. Was this the summer of love? No, it was just those lazy summer days stealing away the cold winter thoughts. Life was so delicate. These were the times when the heart races at the thought of an old friend.  
  
As they sat in the park, in the grass, they were blinded by the sunset, having to look at their shadows on the ground. Some moments, they remained speechless, knowing that soon they'd have to grow up and do what they're supposed to. They soon had to let fate take its toll on their lives.  
  
The warm summer breeze blazed through carrying the hint of music being played in front of the absinthe-bar not too far away. The song was La Boheme. It was probably meant for lovers, by the soft melancholic tune, but Satine could close her eyes and dance to it in her mind.  
  
"We were some, which awaited glory  
  
And although pauper, with the hollow belly  
  
We did not cease believing"  
  
Satine looked to the bluebirds that chirped so heavenly, as if in tune to the song that was being played.  
  
"And when some choose bar  
  
Against a good hot meal"  
  
Satine noticed that the closest social gathering, Bar Absinthe, had been packed with those who helped play the tune, which depicted them so broadly.  
  
  
  
"We recite with some group around a stove  
  
To forget the winter"  
  
It was these Boho's who had stuck together, huddled at times, as if it was winter, in the dead summer sun.  
  
"The Bohemian, the Bohemian  
  
That wanted to say that you are beautiful"  
  
Everyday there was someone caressing the cheek of another soul. The beauty was brought out in everyone, the inner, and the outer. If there was no beauty, these Boho's could make it with their artistic minds.  
  
"The Bohemian, the Bohemian  
  
And we all have genius  
  
...  
  
To spend some sleepless night  
  
Improve the drawing"  
  
Yes, these creative wonders, painters, musicians, writers... They all spent their days merry, loving the life. Showing their talents before letting themselves a night of sleep.  
  
"And that one who can like the life  
  
The Bohemian, the Bohemian  
  
That wanted to say he has twenty years"  
  
Who knows if they'll be living on this day in twenty years from now? Who knows their fate?  
  
"The Bohemian, the Bohemian  
  
And we always live to make a turn  
  
...  
  
Neither the walls nor the streets  
  
Which saw my youth  
  
On top of a staircase  
  
I seek the workshop  
  
Of which nothing more remains  
  
In its new Montmartre decoration seems sad  
  
And the lilacs died"  
  
Satine was looking in the direction of the hill to the deceased, that could not be seen. So many generations have come and gone, only staying true to their Bohemian heart to be buried on that hill.  
  
"The Bohemian one, the Bohemian one  
  
One was young and was insane  
  
The Bohemian one, Bohemian  
  
That has nothing more to say"  
  
Satine was always touched by the tune that carried its' hymn like an anthem. Simon loved the song as well, but it never touched him. He wasn't Bohemian at heart, yet.  
  
This music brought tears to Satine's eyes most of the time, if it wasn't for the strange paperboy riding a bicycle past them screaming a determined "Moley, moley, moley, moley, moley, moleey!" as he crashed into a tree.  
  
Yes, this was Satine's childhood. Filled with the good and the tragic, and the just plain odd. But she was a Bohemian, and everything was beautiful.  
  
^*\\|//*^~-.,.-~¤~-.,.-~^*\\|//*^  
  
It was easy to say that you could cry over what you had, but not when you were too busy to have memories. Satine was moving on, slowly. She was supposedly going to be bigger and better, and still in Montmartre.  
  
"Come along my little sunbeam!" Harold called as Satine had just finished packing her small bag of belongings.  
  
Marie was distraught. "Now will you tell us where we're going?"  
  
"Alright. You know that old windmill-"  
  
"Oh no. I don't want to own one of those mangy old things."  
  
"No," Harold emphasized himself. "The wind mill..."  
  
"Oh, Ugh, Harold-No!" Marie spat in disgust, as Satine watched in pure confusion. "We are not taking in any wind mill! Especially not that one that Joseph painted red."  
  
"Oh, Marie. You know this was what we-I wanted! Besides, if we're going to move, we have to buy a windmill, they're the only things unoccupied in all of Montmartre anymore!" He paused. He thought Marie knew how much he wanted this.  
  
"Fine. But for God's sake let's not make it a madhouse. We have Satine. The place that you want, Harold, isn't for a growing girl."  
  
"It's not like she has to be exposed!"  
  
Marie's eyes narrowed. "Fine. Come along Satine, we're going to the Moulin Rouge."  
  
^*\\|//*^~-.,.-~¤~-.,.-~^*\\|//*^  
  
The Moulin Rouge was the failed windmill. Once just one of the many windmills in Montmartre, then turned into the only painted in the brightest red. (Harold's close friend, Joseph tried making it a masterpiece.)  
  
"Wow, it's pretty!" Satine said as she walked inside the entrance. The floorboards creaked loudly under her feet. The dust fell upon her face from the barracks as she let out a cough. "But old..."  
  
"Don't worry my Rosebud! We'll get it cleaned and fixed up in no time!"  
  
Marie looked at Satine, annoyed. "He's going to go overboard with that, I'm telling you." Satine laughed at this.  
  
It was certainly enormous, something Satine always wanted-a big home. She used to try imagining the one her mother and father were going to buy, in her dreams of course. Every time she pictured it, it was even more marvelous than the last. She had a lovely bedroom of her own. It was when she saw the whole estate of the red windmill that she knew just how long Harold had been scrapping for it all, with a lot of money to spare.  
  
Yes, he was going to do everything with it. It was going to be fabulous for those of the rich or even poor culture, for a man or a woman to let go of the rules of daily life. It was to forget their worries, and the wars at hand and those to come. The Moulin Rouge would be a haven for the restless.  
  
The days passed quickly as the hours came and gone. Each is re-entering a time warp of working for a self-less matter, as Harold simply watched in himself, a daze, that his beloved fantasy was becoming a reality. That was the selfishness of the matter. Who owned the hour and who had the day wrapped around his finger. It was Idealism vs. Realism, forgotten in the quarrels of the realist... War.  
  
"Symbolic!" Harold would scream often. Everything stood for something the estate containted. The windmill-for Montmartre, the color red-Bohemian beauty, his little Satine's hair, so red. The large fake elephant with its opium room stood in the garden probably for the circus brought out in it all. The essential Bohemian decor-the love for art by the martyrs. The fanciful look-the want for growth and prosperity. Costumes and dancing- Leave your worries behind. Absinthe and drinking-Vive le vie!  
  
Those who worked on the place worked and worked, not knowing what Harold was going to add next. One day it would be more paint, golden finishes, and artists. By the new day, exotic clowns were hired, electricians, builders, but never designers. That was Harry's job. Satine and Marie simply watched new things and people arrive each day.  
  
It wasn't until the dancers were hired, that Marie slowly began seeing Harold's horrible motive.  
  
"Harold, I will not have this! You cannot make this a cabaret!"  
  
Harold pretended to look surprised. "What, Marie, darling, you thing this is a cabaret?"  
  
"Oh, Stop it. A cabaret among other things," she was seeing that her Harold, the once softy old romantic at heart, turned into a firey, all-for- one businessman. "Have you once stopped to think about Satine?"  
  
"Satine. I... Oh yes! She's very helpful."  
  
Marie saw the gaze-effect in his eyes. "Stop it, right now! She's practically your daughter, and all you do is take advantage of her to work for you! Now I'm willing to work with you, make costumes, whatever you need, but you cannot do this to Satine. She has a future ahead of her. Her mother was just like Satine at this age, and she made a future for herself. Satine can't very well go out into the world and do what she wants if you keep her trapped here!"  
  
"Oh, but Marie! She has everything here! She can do what she wants!"  
  
"No, Harold. She can't. She doesn't want to be a can-can dancer." Little did she know that these words would dance across Harold's obsessed mind. Sparks were flying now. Satine, a can-can dancer. She could dance. She'd rise above the rest.  
  
Marie saw, however, that the future of her Satine was doomed. Satine would do anything for Harold, and Harold would do anything for his precious red windmill.  
  
^*\\|//*^~-.,.-~¤~-.,.-~^*\\|//*^  
  
It took another year for the Moulin Rouge to be completed. Lights shown as bright as the sun at night when it was finally opened.  
  
Satine always remained with Marie, making costumes and altering them for the dancers, contortionists, everyone else who worked under Harold's reign. She was a wonderful seamstress, and it was always the same. Harold always wanted her to leave Marie to the costume work and come out to where the men were. He wanted them all to see how lovely Satine was, and of course they would request her services. She was growing into a woman now. The slow rise to the top.  
  
But years went by, into Satine's later teenage years. She was oblivious to the outside world. The only people she talked to, were infact the dancers. Nini was older than her. She taught her to smoke, to put makeup on, among other things. Nini never had anything against the young Satine. She would never be a dancer, she was just a pretty face, like all the rest.  
  
Satine also became friends with Toulouse Lautrec. He always told her how beautiful she was, and Satine just smiled. Only he thought she was beautiful. Though, no other men had ever seen her. That never crossed her mind. She felt ugly and trapped.  
  
^*\\|//*^~-.,.-~¤~-.,.-~^*\\|//*^  
  
"Thatine. You know how I would wove to paint a portwait of you."  
  
"Oh, Toulouse, that's very sweet, but no. You do enough painting for Harold."  
  
"But justh for you. Or stho I can prove to my friendsth what a pretty diamont i know."  
  
Satine disregarded the issue and was helping Marie by modeling some new costumes. Baby Doll soon came in and gave Satine a hat, and helped her with some makeup, just for fun. Toulouse caught a glimse, then hobbled off to create his masterpiece. He was going to do a portrait of this angel. A marvelous painting of a sparkling diamond named Satine.  
  
^*\\|//*^~-.,.-~¤~-.,.-~^*\\|//*^  
  
One morning, in the winter of 1898, Satine walked through the streets of Montmartre to the shops, just to get out. And of course she'd seen some old faces roaming around. But it wasn't until Simon found her that she spoke.  
  
"Hello! Satine?"  
  
Satine recognized the familiar voice and blurted out his name as she turned around to see him."Simon!" He was the same. Incredibly the same. Just so much older, he was now a man. " It's been so long."  
  
"Yes, it has," To him, his little female friend had certainly become a woman. Her hair was still long, tied into a bun on top of her head, covered by a hat. Her brilliant red curls shown through, there was no hiding such lovely locks. Her eyes were the same big blue ones they always were. And was she wearing a corset with that dress of hers? "Where on earth have you been all this time?"  
  
"Oh, just a fancy little place called the Moulin Rouge," she laughed breathlessly, with a hint of annoyance by the words.  
  
Simon was instantly terrified. "You work...there?"  
  
Satine laughed again. "What? Harold owns it. Of course I work there."  
  
"Satine. Honestly, I thought you'd do something else."  
  
"Well, what can you do? I'm not really making money, but I have money. Just a bit. Harold needs me."  
  
"Good luck, Satine." Simon didn't know her anymore. Satine was the determined redhead. The one who wouldn't let anyone tell her what to do.  
  
She then noticed there was something wrong, something she had said. "Simon," She looked into his eyes, almost occupied by tears. How different. "What's wrong?"  
  
"Nothing Satine, just be careful with that job. You're letting the males dominate you."  
  
"Oh no! No, Simon. I'm not that at all! I make dresses!"  
  
He lifted his head in a mix of relief and confusion. 'But she's so beautiful...' he thought. "You're a seamstress?"  
  
"Yes!" There was that striking smile of hers again. "Now what is it you've been up to Simon Beatty?"  
  
"Oh, um. Just working in the local bar. I know it's not much, but I tell some of these old crankers when they should start slowing down. I'm trying to make up some money to someday get a restaurant."  
  
"I know. I remember. You can do it, Simon. And I'll come see you," But then, Satine suddenly thought of Hue, he'd promised that he'd come back. "Have you been in contact with Hue, lately?"  
  
"Sadly, no."  
  
"Oh..."  
  
So they talked for the rest of Simon's break. Satine had to return to Harold to do some fitting for dancers anyway. It was getting late.  
  
The sun was setting, the street lights were coming on. A sign that the Moulin party was about to begin. She walked slowly back to the shackles of the red palace. Once she got there, Harold had opened early. Anxious men in suits were occupying the only entrance. She'd have to wait.  
  
"Why hello there, Sugar. You come here for a good night, Darlin'?"  
  
"Um, no. Would you just let me through?"  
  
"Seedling!" It was Harold. He showed up beside her, happy to see that the male population was noticing her. "Look at you, where have you been?"  
  
"Out. I'm going back to help Marie."  
  
"NO! She doesn't need help!"  
  
"Do you need me to do anything, Harold?"  
  
"Here, come inside, and I want you to dance for a man. We, uh, have a lack of dancers tonight."  
  
"Alright Harold, but I don't have a costume!"  
  
"Yes you do! I had Chocolat fetch me that black one Toulouse likes on you."  
  
She didn't have the slightest clue what he was talking about. No one by the dancers had seen her in costume of any sort. "Alright. Where is it?"  
  
"Right here!" He pulled the skimpy black corsette from no where it seemed. "Just dress in one of the rooms, there's no need to go all the way up to one of those dressing rooms. We need you now, Satine!"  
  
'Here goes nothing' she thought as she took the costume from Harold, ignoring the various catcalls coming from behind.  
  
  
  
A/N: Well, I had to end it somewhere! This was the "How the Moulin Rouge started" sort of chap. It just kept dragging on, didn't it? I'm sorry! Wordy! I'll post more up soon. Maybe some more action?? Please review if you had the guts to read this far! You guys rock! 


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